


And They All Lived Happily Ever After.

by Mary_Sue_Donym



Category: Thermidor - Przybyszewska
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fix-It, Gen, Happy Ending, I tried to be serious but, Light Angst, Short One Shot, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:54:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25412719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mary_Sue_Donym/pseuds/Mary_Sue_Donym
Summary: A feel-good denial of canon and historical fact.
Kudos: 2





	And They All Lived Happily Ever After.

**Author's Note:**

> This drops you in at the part of the play where Robespierre and Saint-Just have just kicked everyone else out of the committee room, including Vilate, who was trying to tell Robespierre something.

“Wanted to warn me,” the shorter man mused.

“What of?” His companion replied.

“I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t you let him speak, then? I’m going to go get him.” Robespierre made strong protests -

“Antoine, get back here! I believe this to be a personal matter, only of my safety -”

“Only?!” Saint-Just had more to say, but knew he was out of earshot by then. He caught up to Vilate in the hallway.

“Hey, you.”

“Oh. Hello. I won’t bother you anymore, if that’s what you want,” Vilate huffed.

“No, I wanted to hear what you had to say.”

“Ah-ha! Look at you, the right hand of the government, coming to grovel before humble little old m-”

“Come back with me,” the extraordinarily tired and done man said flatly as he turned on his heels. They walked back together in silence, Vilate not concealing his smirk. Saint-Just held the door open for Vilate and waved him in, then entered behind him, closed the door, and sat down in his chair. Robespierre observed him - not with malice, perhaps even with a twinge of awkward gratitude.

“Before you speak, I’d like you to know that I refuse to place myself in your debt,” Robespierre told Vilate.

“Perfect. I accept cash and checks.”

“I could hit you,” Saint-Just offered irritably.

“I could also hit you! You’re not special.”

“Boys, please. Will this be enough?” Robespierre pulled out a few coins from his pocket.

“Hmmm . . .”

Robespierre glanced at his friend and gave a small, helpless shrug. Saint-Just searched his pockets, but only managed to pull out a spider, which he placed cautiously on the table.

“ . . . Well, I’ll say that’s enough, since you’re not as rich as my usual clients. They’re planning a coup d’état.”

“Who?” Saint-Just asked, sitting up urgently.

“Everyone in the room when you came in.”

“What’s their battle plan?”

“To wait for you to scare the moderates, then declare you,” a nod to Robespierre - “a tyrant. The guillotine does the rest.”

A beat. Vilate realized that he was no longer wanted and left the room.

Robespierre stood and walked over to the window, rapping his fingers on the sill as he looked out. “Oh, Antoine . . . If Billaud, Fouché, Collot, Tallien - they’re all against us. They might as well be the whole government. Calling for their heads would only play into their plot, rousing fear. We’ll have to pacify them. Separate them. I’ll visit each of them individually and reassure them that they’re not on the chopping block. There’s no threat from them if they’re unafraid. It would be a big help if we could make more allies, don’t you think, Antoine? Antoine?”

But the younger man had fallen asleep on the table. Robespierre approached softly, in order to put his jacket around Saint-Just’s shoulders, but paused. The spider was on Saint-Just’s neck. It made a threatening gesture and Robespierre struck it, squashing the little thing.

Now awake, Saint-Just looked up at his friend with eyes like a kicked puppy. “I”m sorry. I didn’t mean . . .”

“You’re fine. There was a spider. Now there’s a gooey splotch on your neck.” Robespierre wiped it off, then rubbed his hands together so the bits would fall on the floor. “Now, here’s the plan: do you feel awake enough to understand it?”

“Yes,” Saint-Just replied, not convincingly, although with confidence.

“We’re going to be friendly.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s all you have to do.”

“Easy. But,” he continued a bit shyly, “Earlier, Collot said you’d - that you’ve denounced me.”

“What!” Robespierre burst out laughing. Saint-Just didn’t smile or join in. “Come, now, don’t be silly. You’re the only person I can trust, and Collot wants to guillotine you.”

“That’s exactly what you’d say if you did denounce me.”

Robespierre rolled his eyes. “I’d be an idiot to denounce you.”

“You’re dodging the question.”

“I didn’t do it! Goodness, Antoine, how do I prove it?”

“Swear.”

“Damn.”

“Not what I meant, but I’ll take it. You don’t happen to have a pillow?”

“No. My poor boy, are you too tired to get home?”

“Mmm.”

“Come sit next to me, lean on my shoulder.” The men plopped on the ground and fell asleep almost instantly.

The next morning the conspirators were surprised at what they found in the meeting room, and almost fainted when a sneeze from Fouché awoke the sleeping pile.

“It was him!” Collot blurted instinctively.

“He who plays the name game is to blame,” Fouché countered.

“Whoever said the rhyme, did the crime,” Tallien added excitedly. Billaud put his head in his hands, the first to understand that the coup would fail.

And, it did. Forewarned is forearmed, and by simply reconciling with their enemies, Robespierre and Saint-Just saved not only themselves, but were able to lead the republic safely out of the Terror, ushering a new era of peace and light into the world. And everyone lived happily ever after.


End file.
